Choose a Star and then Follow the Light
by abbyli
Summary: The purest form of magic brings the Elven queen back to life after the events of the Hobbit films. This is the story of how the Mirkwood family recovers and starts over. Nothing but pure fluff and adorable family moments.
1. The Magic

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**a/n: Set sort of post the third Hobbit movie. It was said that Thranduil and Legolas made up after the events of the trilogy and well, Legolas is a lot happier and more compassionate in the LotR trilogy so I'm just filling in the blanks with my own headcanons. I hope you all enjoy. **

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It had been six weeks.

Six weeks was usually like a minute and a half to an elf, but now time dragged on for Legolas. He felt more weary than ever, and most of that was the mental exhaustion of the days before leaving the Mirkwood. He missed everyone there, despite the fact that he knew he needed to leave, and already desired turning around and going home.

He wondered how Tauriel was, if his father had lifted her banishment and allowed her to return home. He wondered how she was faring, if at all.

Loss was never easy. And rare to elves. Because death was unusual to them. It happened, but when it did, the fallout was absolutely wretched.

His father was a living example of that.

Legolas had been a mere mortal's age when battle had taken his mother in Gundabad. He could barely remember his life then, only a few flashes here and there flitting in and out of his dreams, and those were sparse too. But his father remembered everything. Every little bit of the queen Aindrila and he kept every memory for himself.

He had a hard time not hating his father for that. He supposes he should be grateful for the small bit the king had given him before he left but it wasn't enough.

Was it possible to miss someone you didn't even remember? He wonders if that is so. It must be because when he thought of his mother, there was an ache deep in the pit of his soul that never went away.

Legolas wondered if he ever knew about his mother, _anything _at all, maybe that ache would ease. He wanted to know if he looked like her, if he acted like her. Was she an archer or did she prefer the sword? Did she enjoy wearing long beautiful gowns or prefer the traditional military garb like Tauriel did?

His travels carry on. He carries himself towards the North, just like the king had told him too, to find that ranger. Strider was his name, at least, the name that he was called. The son of Arathorn though, he knew that this man must be a fair one if his own father spoke so highly of him.

He never quite makes it.

-;

He stops at a small town to rest for a few hours and restock his supplies. He didn't need much to survive on his travels, mere small portions of food being enough to keep him sated for hours. Sleep was sparse too, and he preferred that because he could travel great distances without having to stop for very long. The miles he had taken in just six weeks would have taken an ordinary Man months to cover.

He uses ordinary gold to pay for his things at the small shop and heads back out of town, his bow secure on his back. The air is turning a little colder, which he notes by the sharp bites on his skin despite being unbothered. The lands are still green, with bits of color touching the trees like a painting. He supposes it's beautiful, something he would have appreciated long ago but now, now he couldn't really care less.

Night falls and passes within a mere moment. He rises again after settling by a small fire deep within the wood, kicking dirt over the flames before carrying on. A rabbit skitters across his path, tail large and puffed up, the last thing he sees as the creature disappears into the grass.

More animals are coming. Legolas falls to a stop and watches as the deer and the birds pass by him like he's not even there, heading straight to what seems to be an opening to the wood. He has no choice but to follow, his curiosity brimming to the surface. A tall buck nearly shoves him out of the way in it's haste to go where everyone else is going and so he continues to follow.

He ends up in a clearing, but it's unlike any ordinary clearing. He stands on the top of a hill, and the green and gold stretches out for miles. He blinks at it's beauty, the whisper of a smile pulling his lips up as the animals run down the hill towards – _something. _

Legolas draws his bow, notching an arrow. He moves down the hill with the pace of a young foal and approaches what he perceives is a small ball of light. The animals are gathered around it, a few rabbits and squirrels stretching up on their back legs to breathe it in, to _touch _it with their pink noses. He stays back a bit, examining the glow as it continues to rise up out of the earth and spread far and wide.

And then it takes him in before he can even utter a word.

-;

He's so warm, so comfortable.

This must be what rest is like for mortal men. He likes this, he likes being carried on the wind.

_Legolas. _

He tries to turn in the air, hair falling down over his face.

_Legolas. _

No. No, leave him be. He wants to rest.

_Legolas. _

Please.

_What is your deepest desire, Legolas? _

His deepest desire...he doesn't really know what that could be. Peace for Mirkwood. His father to be safe...to know his mother.

He didn't even know what she looked like.

_Legolas. _

Leave him alone. Just leave him alone.

The light drops him and his back hits the ground with a painful thud. Legolas's eyes shoot open and for a moment all he can see is sky and concentrate on the screeching of his spinal cord. Legolas gasps out a cry, and he stares up at the sky, listening to the thumping of the retreating footsteps of all the animals. A few leap right over him too, blocking out the sun for just a moment.

The pain ebbs away but he's still grunting when he climbs to his feet. He should send notice back to Mirkwood, there was rogue magic here in the Woodland Realm and the king should know about it.

The thought fades away as soon as his eyes see _her. _

The animals are still scampering off, the shimmering light having disappeared into nothingness. Legolas' eyes adjust to the green around him, but now he sees that he's not alone on the rolling pastures of emerald.

A woman stands about three hundred yards away, dressed in what seemed to be a tattered warrior's garb. Her blond hair strews down her back in a mussed braid and from what he can see, there are fading bruises on her face. Her gaze swivels around to meet his and he sees his own eyes looking back at him.

His heart stops in his chest.

No. No, it wasn't possible.

This kind of magic didn't exist. Did it?

He takes a few tottery steps, feeling very much like a young elfling. The woman does the same and she does fall to the ground. His pace increases, becoming more steadily in his haste to get to her. She rises up with the same grace, the bruises on her face completely gone and replaced by a faint hint of blush to show the blood pulsing underneath her skin. As he gets closer, he can make out the beats of her steady heart and oh _heavens..._

"Mother?"

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**Aindrila is the Hindu name for 'Female Star' and well Thranduil never shut up about 'Starlight' so I thought, what the hey? **

**If you would like me to continue please leave reviews and tell me what you thought. **


	2. Home

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"Mother? Is that you?"

The not quite so dead queen says nothing but reaches for him still. The very tips of her fingers brush against his, sending electric jolts across his skin. It tells him how very real she is and none of this is a waking dream.

Andrila stared at him, still holding the tips of his fingers like a lifeline. "O-oh." She crawls a little closer, tears glistening in her eyes. "Legolas?" her voice comes out in a squeak and Legolas nods, his chin trembling. "_O-oh." _Her fingers brush his chin. "Oh my boy. My beautiful boy..." A sob cracks her mouth.

They're both still effectively laying on the warm, grassy ground. Legolas leans into her touch, his eyes swelling with tears. It's only when he crawls forward that she sinks into his arms, whole and real and alive. Her fingers scratch at the back of his overcoat, gripping the fabric tightly as the front is wetted with her tears. "How old are you? How old?" She gasps when he utters his age, sinking back on her heels. "I don't understand."

He shakes his head. "Neither do I."

She gasps, slapping a hand over her open mouth. Legolas' eyes trace her form and he notices the warrior's garb she wears, torn and dirtied like she had been in a battle just minutes before.

It suddenly occurs to Legolas that maybe she had. At least, in her world.

Aindrila's hands reach for him again, fingers gently touching his chin and cheek. "You look so like your father." Her eyes widen. "Your father! He lives, right?"

Legolas nods quickly. "He's back in Mirkwood. He's...well."

"What does that mean?" Aindrila asks. "What are you doing here? Where exactly are we?"

"We're near the mountains. About a seven week walk." Aindrila's gaping at him and he feels his face flush. "I'll explain, I promise."

Her hand wraps firmly around his and he slowly gets to his feet, pulling her with him.

How could this be? How was this possible? She was..._dead. _For nearly two millennia and yet, here she was like no time had passed.

Was this even her?

That horrid thought settles in his mind like a poisonous snake and he turns to look into Aindrila's face. He lifts his hand and notices that his fingers are still shaking as he rests it against her cheek and concentrates.

He didn't know magic. He knew his body held it, that he was capable of great powers, but the one person who could teach him to tap into it had always refused. He did know a few things, little bits that came to him naturally. Like how to tell if someone was truly there, if the face that they carried was theirs.

His eyes fall closed as he focuses and the person that he hopes and prays is his mother remains still. When his eyes flicker back open, she's still there and her face is still the same.

She's whispering words, words that make him look away but listen deeply. "You were born on a spring morn. You came early into the world." She reaches up and brushes her fingers against the ends of his hair. "So small. Your father was afraid you wouldn't make it." A smile crosses her face, almost marveling at him. "And here you are."

His hand covers hers and he doesn't let go.

-;

"Do you remember it?"

He had built another fire to roast one of the rabbits he had captured this morning. His mother was kneeling beside the fire as he worked to prepare the meat, nibbling on a piece of bread he had given her out of his pack. They would rest for a few hours and then begin the travels back home to the Realm before the high noon.

Andrila's forehead furrowed in thought and she popped another bite of bread into her mouth. "I remember...dragonfire. And so many black riders. Oh there were so many. They had found you. They almost..." She blinks hard, the last piece of bread forgotten. "I couldn't let them touch you."

Legolas nods in understand. His father's words make so much sense now. "He told me it was Gundabad."

"It was," Aindrila says softly. "I allowed them to take me. I let them take me because then they were going to take you." Legolas flinched. "And after that...nothing. Just an eternal blackness that was broken by light." She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "We should go. Mirkwood, has it changed much?"

Legolas gets to his feet and stamps out the fire, heaving the now cooled rabbit meat into his pack. "Father has tried to preserve it the way you left it. He, uh...he misses you. So much."

Aindrila sighed. "Let's go home." They gazed at each other for a moment and Legolas still couldn't believe it. His mother was standing right in front of him, _alive. _He kept wondering when he would wake from this dream.

He hoped he never would.

-;

Their travels back to the Realm seem to fly by. Legolas' nerves rise as the castle grows closer. Ho was he going to explain this? How was his father going to react? Never mind his father, how was the _kingdom _going to react to their queen becoming magically alive again?

A soft touch to his hand makes him jump and he looks around to see Aindrila watching him. "Try not to fret," she tells him and he almost laughs, wondering if it had been like this when he was small, his mother always able to read him like an open book.

"It's difficult not too," he admits just as they pass over the bridge to where the guards wait. Legolas watches as their faces change to expressions of pure shock as they gaze upon the alive queen. Their eyes flicker to Legolas, waiting for the nod of confirmation that this is real and Aindrila is not an imposter. Legolas gives that to them and they part to let him and the queen pass.

Aindrila gently pulls away from him to throw her arms around one guard with long dark hair. "M-milady?" Narlieth whispers into her shoulder.

Aindrila pulls away, eyes teary again. "Yes it is me."

Narlieth's gaze darts to Legolas. "I d-don't understand. How is this possible?"

"We're not sure either," Legolas shrugs. "I believe, once the king has recovered from this shock, he will know the answer."

He hoped.

After Aindrila greeted the other guards, they continued across the palace grounds. Passerby would wave to them or nod in acknowledgement at him before freezing and gaping at Aindrila. The whispers of the palace were already greeting their ears before they even got to the doors.

_It's a miracle. _

_The queen has returned. _

_The queen has returned to us. _

The door to his father's chambers is surprisingly unguarded but he supposes that they scattered when word got to them. He knocks once, his other hand wrapped around Aindrila's wrist.

"_Enter." _

His heart hammering in his throat, he walks in with his mother angled slightly behind him. He doesn't see Thranduil anywhere and Aindrila gently pulls out of his grasp and goes over to the fireplace. Flames dance in the embers, sending a relaxing heat across the chamber floor. Legolas walks over to the connecting door leading to his father's study and rapped lightly on the door. His father's voice bade him entrance and he stepped in.

Thranduil sat his desk, his back to the door, not looking up when Legolas lightly shut the door behind him. "I've already eaten, Briar. No need to ply me with anymore bread and cheese."

Legolas snorted. "It's not Briar, Father."

His father looks up so quickly that the quill he's using to scratch out some royal decree goes flying out of his hand. "Legolas!" The younger elf laughs softly as his father almost leaps to his feet and nearly trips over his robes in the process. "S-son, what are you doing back?"

Legolas reached for Thranduil's hand, capturing his wrist with his fingers. "I have something to show you. _Someone, _actually, who is very anxious to see you."

"Oh, Legolas, you're not going to bring me another little urchin, are you?"

"Tauriel is not an urchin and _no. _Come along, Father. I promise, you will like this."

Thranduil lifts a brow in surprise but does as he's told, and for one brief moment as they step back out into the main chamber, Legolas doesn't see Aindrila and believes that _yes, _he was in a dream and she is no longer there.

But then he does see her, standing by the grand window. The queen turns slowly on her heel, a timid smile crossing her lips and her eyes filled with so much longing. "Hello, Thranduil."

Legolas wasn't sure what he was expecting from his father. Perhaps shock and disbelief. Maybe even denial.

But he most certainly was not expecting his father to emit a battle roar and pull out his sword. "Who are you?! _Why do you wear her face?!" _Legolas notches an arrow, pointing it at his father's wrist but what happens after, even his elf eyes cannot follow.

When he blinks, his father is on his knees with his arm twisted behind him, the sword laying discarded somewhere across the floor. Aindrila stands over him, her face exasperated but not angry at the fact that her husband had just tried to hack her head from her shoulders. Legolas lowers his bow just slightly, watching as Thranduil's eyes widen with shock and he turns his head to stare up at Aindrila.

"Oh _gods. _It is you."

And then the King slumps to the floor in a dead faint.

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**Heehee I loved this so much. The thing is, the only person that could **_**ever **_**kick Thranduil's ass was his wife. That's how he knew it was her. **

**If there is anyone out there, do drop me a comment. Thanks loves. **


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